


Breaking Distance

by klytaemnestra (klytae)



Series: Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [7]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25951429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klytae/pseuds/klytaemnestra
Summary: When he speeds along the coastline, Rufus at his side, he considers what it might be like to pull off into some secluded spot, ease the seats back, and take Rufus on a more thrilling kind of ride.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Series: Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915873
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63





	Breaking Distance

The last light of day slips beneath the hills, casting the shores of Costa del Sol into the pale blue tinged haze of dusk as the villas dotting along the coastline begin to light up with mako power. Costa had been one of the first locales outside of Midgar and Junon to embrace Shinra’s glowing gift of energy, turning the sleepy coastal fishing village into a splendid resort where the elite and well connected come to play. Film stars, and socialites, and playboys soaking up the rays and upon nightfall, retreating to the many ocean side bars, clubs, and restaurants.

Some nights, Rufus Shinra demands they go dancing, though they take different partners, Rufus having caught the eye of a few local men, and Tseng when persuaded will take a pretty socialite, blondes, their slim curves wrapped in colourful fabrics, lips painted red, wafting of soft powdery perfumes. They exchange glances across the dance floor, Rufus often smiling, Tseng quietly pensive as he watches his lover perform for him. He does not consider himself a jealous lover, only that Rufus can take any other lover he wishes, enjoy a summer fling in the public eye, be seen kissing someone rich and affluent, and be afforded all the speculation and gossip of the tabloids without consequence.

Other nights, such as these, Rufus prefers to remain close to the villa, to sit beneath the secluded shelter of the veranda, or stargaze from the upper terrace, fingers entwined with Tseng’s as he speaks quietly about nothing in particular. In these moments, they sometimes dance, arms thrown about one another, heads resting together as they sway to lilting strains of guitar, or soft violins. These are the nights Tseng prefers, when they can be together in private, away from prying eyes, even as he accepts that Rufus by nature will always be a social creature, a man adoring the attention, the celebrity.

He’s accepted an invitation to have cocktails tomorrow afternoon with the heiress to a mythril mine and her new husband on honeymoon here in Costa who he met whilst in an expensive luxury boutique that morning. Rufus is rarely an early riser, and Tseng now finds himself dreading that he had chosen today of all days to drag himself from bed before noon. Networking, Rufus had called it. When Shinra is his, he will want allies and connections, and having a mythril mine in one's pocket is never on short return.

_‘You’re not obligated to come.’_

_‘And let you out of my sight.’_

_‘I can manage, and anyway, you’d probably enjoy the alone time.’_

_‘Sir, forgive me for asking, but how, exactly, do you intend to get there without a driver?’_

The argument is settled before Rufus can form an adequate answer, leaving Tseng to smile just a little at the fact that for all his knowledge, and wealth, Rufus Shinra can not drive.

It’s a shame truly, Tseng thinks, as he slides his hand along the sinuous line of the Shinra Coeurlregina Type-0's hood. If Rufus is to make an entrance tomorrow, he’ll need this car in pristine condition, and Tseng is happy to oblige. Midgar is not a city known for its ease of traffic flow, and Tseng’s own car rarely sees much personal use. It’s a sleek dark number, something customized especially for the Director of the Department of Administrative Research, though most missions require the use of a helicopter. This car, though, is spectacular. The only one of its kind. A mako twin-turbo V8 engine boasting 720 metric chocopower. White leather seats, and dash, all custom. And when he speeds along the coastline, Rufus at his side, he considers what it might be like to pull off into some secluded spot, ease the seats back, and take Rufus on a more thrilling kind of ride.

It’s here that Rufus finds him an hour later. ‘I was looking all over for you.’ He admits as he leans against the frame of the garage door. ‘I made us drinks. If you’d like to join me.’

Tseng looks up from his work to the way Rufus stands there, shirt nearly undone, two caipirissimas in hand. He gives a final polish to the windshield, and tosses the rag away, before moving to take the proffered drink.

‘Cheers.’ Rufus lifts the glass, and Tseng takes a sip. Lime, and sugar, and rum. Rufus has a certain talent for mixing cocktails.

‘I wanted to let you know that tomorrow’s off. A scheduling issue.’

Tseng knows by the smile that this is his doing, that he has freed Tseng of his obligation in joining him by simply cancelling it entirely.

‘What a shame.’

‘Liar.’ Rufus takes another sip of his drink before decidedly getting up into Tseng’s personal space. It’s invitation enough for Tseng to close the distance between their lips with a kiss, tasting the lingering alcohol on his lover’s tongue.

He thinks to the car, and considers. ‘If you would indulge me.’

Rufus arches a light eyebrow as if intrigued by what proposition Tseng might pose. He rarely makes requests.

Tseng takes the drink from Rufus’ hand, and sets them aside. ‘I want to see you bent over that car.’

The look Rufus gives him is one of mild disgust, but the way his pupils seem to dilate, and a faint flush creeps along his cheeks, Tseng knows he is very, very interested.

‘One moment.’ Leaves with a quick kiss, and Tseng knows he’s headed directly to the poolhouse to retrieve certain necessities. When he returns minutes later, he tosses Tseng a bottle of lube, there are towels for cleanup, wouldn’t want to damage that pristine paint job, and a small glass toy that has become Rufus’ preferred method of getting himself ready to take Tseng’s cock.

Tseng’s already slicking his cock, dark eyes watching as his lover slowly undoes his trousers. He settles against the hood of the car, and slides the toy inside with a soft moan. It’s not nearly as long as what he’s used to, but it’s enough to get him opened up for Tseng to slide in with little effort. He moans again, this time a little louder, and captures his lip between his teeth. Tseng withdraws the toy with a twist, enjoying the way Rufus clenches around it, and runs his fingertip against the tight rim of muscle, before leaning forward to drag his tongue along it, smiling darkly at the way Rufus tenses beneath the touch, and swipes his tongue again, eliciting a desperate whine that would be nearly undignified if he didn’t absolutely live for each noise he could make slip from Rufus Shinra’s mouth.

‘Shiva, just get it up there already.’

‘Always so demanding.’ Tseng’s voice is a purr, but he complies, turning Rufus until he’s bracing palms down on the hood of the car. The warmth from the engine radiates still from their earlier drive, and when Tseng slides home, sheathed to the hilt in that tight heat, Rufus feels as if he is enveloped in it.

Tseng rests a hand against the back of Rufus’ neck, the other braced on the hood, and begins to move, slim hips rocking into Rufus’ ass. He sighs at the way the tightness grips him, and reaches around to shove a finger into Rufus’ waiting mouth, teeth biting just so as he begins to build a rhythm between their bodies. The sound of flesh against flesh rises above the steady noise of cicadas, and somewhere offshore thunder rumbles low.

‘How long have you been thinking of this?’ Rufus manages between gasps of pleasure, Tseng’s cock hits in all those places that makes him moan like he’s some Wall Market rentboy, to make him sob and cry out as Tseng splits him open and just nails him until he’s a writhing mess.

‘Since we got here.’ It’s not an untruth, the moment he’d seen the Type-0, he’d envisioned what Rufus might look like splayed across it, fucked out and wanton. The realization of that particular fantasy is nothing short of thrilling as he watches the way his cock sinks inside, Rufus’ poised above the flat white finish. ‘You should see yourself.’

‘Does it make you harder?’

He answers with a particularly forceful thrust, pace increasing, until he’s got Rufus flat against the surface, his chest flush to his lover’s back as he drives into him. A litany of filth falls from Rufus’ lips between cries for _more, harder, please_. And as much as Tseng enjoys seeing Rufus’ this way, he really needs to get his tongue in that mouth to silence him before he alerts the groundskeeper. He withdraws for a moment and shifts Rufus until he’s on his back, settling him just so. Tseng lifts a long leg, lips kissing a line along the calf before bracing it against his shoulder, and thrusts back inside. This time he watches as Rufus’ face seems to shatter with the force of his ecstasy. His mouth is on his lover’s a moment later, tongue down his throat as he begins to practically wreck Rufus, each thrust now just nailing his prostate. He reaches down then, to take Rufus’ straining cock in hand, thumb playing at the weeping head, before sliding back downward.

When he pulls away from the kiss, he looks at the way Rufus is so beautifully debauched, and lifts his other leg over his shoulder to increase his pace, knowing neither will last much longer, not at this speed.

They both come to a sudden blinding halt, Rufus’ body rigid beneath his as he clenches around him and comes, and the look of fucked out bliss, mouth open in a strangled cry, hands clutching at Tseng’s arms, is enough to send Tseng over the edge, spilling deep inside his lover.

‘We’ll ruin this paint.’ Rufus supplies a handful of breaths later, and the half smile he gives Tseng in the wake of this is devious.

‘You could offer to help.’

‘You’re the one who wanted to fuck me across the hood.’

Tseng withdraws, pulls Rufus upright, and presses a kiss to his temple before retrieving the towels. They’ll need a shower, but for now he’s content to let the traces of the act remain even if he knows Rufus will complain about it later.

‘Let’s make ourselves another drink.’ He reaches out to take Rufus’ hand in his own, threading their fingertips together as he leads him away from the garage. They’ll spend tonight on the veranda, sipping cocktails, listening to softly lilting music. 

And as they look at one another in the dim light thinking of a life where they might endure the speculation and gossip of the tabloids without consequence, Tseng leans in close, and murmurs something softly into Rufus’ ear that makes the Shinra heir smile in a manner that is intended solely for them, in these quiet moments spent together.

_fin_


End file.
